But Kennedy was not to be joked out of his indignation, so Julian continued. “I wish you knew more of Lillyston. At one time, I should have been nearly as much bothered by Hazlet as you, but Lillyston’s kind, genial good-humour with every one, and the genuine respectful sympathy which he shows even for things he can least understand, have made me much happier than I should have been. Now, he might have done Hazlet some good, whereas your opposition, my dear fellow, will only make him more rampant than ever. Ah, here Lillyston comes.”
“What an honest open face,” said Kennedy.
“Like the soul which looks through it, sans peur et sans reproche,” said Julian warmly.
“Rather a contrast to the last comer,” murmured Kennedy, as he picked up his cap and gown to walk to the lecture-room.
“There, don’t think of Hazlet any more,” said Julian.
“‘He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small,
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.’
“A capital good motto that; isn’t it, Hugh?”
“I must love Hazlet as one of the very small things, then,” said the incorrigible Kennedy as he left the room with the other two.
Hazlet was put on to construe during the lecture, and if anything could have shaken the brazen tower of his self-confidence, it would have been the egregious display of incapacity which followed; but Hazlet rather piqued himself on his indifference to the poor blind heathen poets, on whose names he usually dealt reprobation broadcast. “Like lions that die of an ass’s kick,” those wronged great souls lay prostrate before Hazlet’s wrathful heels.